Shatter Me
by Heartbeats In Sync
Summary: Violet's crumbling against the strains of her abusive mother and unsuspecting father. She's a broken soul clinging to what sanity she has left. When she meets Tate, she's skeptical and doesn't trust who he is because her father is his new psychiatrist. Will it be too late for him to show her real happiness? Or will everything fall apart in the process?
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Violet can't look in the mirror anymore because she hates who she's become. Her parents arguing is constant, their tones grow louder from under the floor boards, they are arguing about her, about everything, their failing marriage, the affair, and what ever else possible. It's been days since the affair has come to light, and her father Ben tries to explain himself. He wants to move to L.A. and start fresh. Which yet again starts another screaming match. Against the floor she can't hear exactly what they are saying, but she knows what it's about, no matter what the topic of discussion is, Vivien continues to blame Violet for her miscarriage, and she refuses to give a reason as to why. After a few more minutes of arguing, the door slams shut and something breaks, followed by the wails of her mother who she stopped trying to please long ago.

She grabs the blade beneath her bed and doesn't take precautions, she cuts her flesh in a perfect line as the maroon color swirls the length of her arm sliding down to her elbow on to the mahogany wooded floor. The color almost blends in with the background as another slice is added to the collection of old ones in her wrist. Her vision sways as heavy blotches of black block out her site.

She gets up shakily and takes a step, before slamming to the ground ignoring the blood streaming down her skin. The pain is dull and sharp at the same time. She has no time to react before her bedroom door is forced open and her mother Vivien stormed in, a bottle of scotch in her right hand. The smell of alcohol mixed with the lingering smell of blood makes Violet gag inwardly.

She doesn't feel her mother strike her. She doesn't see her mother's rage. She feels her mother's breath ragged and sharp against her ear, as she is told how worthless she is.

Violet Hamon refuses to show weakness to her mother.

After all, she isn't afraid of anything.

**Hi guys! I love American Horror Story and I stumbled onto the fanfiction of them and I am so glad I did. After reading a few, I got the idea to write my own. This is the prologue, so not much is going on. But we know there will be drama!**

**If you would like you can leave a review. Remember more reviews equal faster updates. So let me know what you think and if you have ideas drop a line and tell me!**

**-Heartbeats In Sync**


	2. Chapter 2

The drive from Boston to L.A. was pitiful for Violet as she was blasting old Nirvana classics in her headphones in a sad attempt of trying to successfully block out the heated tension in the car. she can hear her parents mutter malice phrases under their breaths. She hears her father call her mother a frigid bitch, maybe it was only meant in a way that would make her realize how rash she was being.

Yeah, right.

In Violet's opinion, she had no choice of actually taking her mother's side for once. even though her father had put them through hell, she couldn't bring herself to hold that straight face when saying the words "I love you." when he said it in passing. She said it in a returning question, with a look that clearly read "Do I?" Ben of course would smile that phony smile of his like everything was 'A okay' in his fantasy world he was obviously living in to be that dense in actually seeing no one in this incompetent family could show him the real meaning of the word love. He betrayed the family in such a way that even God himself couldn't forgive.

It was after the miscarriage weeks before the affair came to the surface. Before everything, Vivien used to be a strong independent woman who Violet undoubtedly admired. She would cook, clean, grocery shop, and still have time to help out with Violet's homework before going back to doing whatever it was she did when Violet was at school. When she got pregnant again, all seemed to be going perfect for the family expecting a new addition. Ben was home more and decided to move his psychiatrist office to his study in order to help out Vivien.

That was his first mistake and Violet didn't see the red flags.

Months went on and the gender of the baby was revealed to be a boy. Mason Alexander was going to be his name and the family couldn't be happier with the news. Vivien was still as hardworking as ever, being six months pregnant she was glowing with life and loved every minute of it. That's when everything the Harmon family knew of true happiness stopped and came crashing down. It was Vivien's seventh month pregnant when she felt blood pool down her legs and the piercing pain in her stomach. Ben drove her to the hospital and Violet was stroking her mother's sweaty forehead in an unsuccessful manner of calming her. Grunts of agony filled everyone with a harsh realization something was terribly wrong. Violet was whispering words of comfort in her mother's ear as Vivien shoved her back harshly against the seat, staring at her with hatred that seemed to burn. Violet was never the same after that. Happiness doesn't last forever.

Later the family found out the baby had passed, unsure as to how or why, the cause of death was deemed undetermined because Vivien had done everything a mother expecting would do, and then some. It was decided the Harmons would host a Macabre funeral for him, and no one would ever forget the look of that baby coffin getting lowered into the ground as everything around them was cold and still, the putrid smell of death frozen from the air lingering against the stale reality would plaque Violet's mind. Death was a slap in the face and it was always constant.

Vivien had turned to alcohol and abuse towards her child as Ben had turned to infidelity and the other cheek with no remorse. Violet had turned to her new affair with a razor blade and the stinging pain of the bruises and welts that laced her skin with reminders she was now her mother's vicious play thing. It was more or less like a fucked up family photo. Each had a smile as fake as the last, the bruises were hidden, and the cuts were covered, and the love each member of the family had been either non-existent or fake.

Violet remembers the girl's name who her father had cheated on her mother with, the very same name that brings ice to her veins and tears to her eyes. Blood rushes to old wounds begging to be re-opened with the tip of a new blade every time she thinks of the whore who fucked her father.

Hayden McClain.

She wasn't much older than Violet, Hayden give or take had just turned eighteen, shy of Violet's seventeenth birthday. Her father would consistently avoid her name when it came up from her mother asking if she was as troubled as the rest of who saw him. Ben of course couldn't answer that because there was some confidentiality in the job of which he was so eager to keep. Not much, if he really couldn't keep who he was doing in his pants only. The affair as Violet rethought it was painfully noticeable. She often saw him answering texts frequently under the initials H.M. Violet wasn't snooping through her fathers stuff to catch him, but she wasn't stupid either, she knew how to work things and be sneaky when it came to dinner and he was so absent minded she could act as if she was getting another side dish to scoop on her plate.

It was almost as if Vivien knew what he was doing by the way her eyes would pierce into his skull like a dagger to his cold black still beating heart. She wasn't as bad of a drunk then, but she was damn near close to being one at that point, due to everything hitting her at once. She wasn't as abusive to Violet much then either as she recalls. Sure, she would be snide if Violet didn't do as told. A chore or two. She would always be condescending in a way Ben would usually look passed. It was almost like a game of tests for him. Which he always seemed to fail at that.

As the Harmons pulled into a castle-like Victorian home, Violet silently approved of her father's choice. She looked to the realtor out of the window and felt as if she was hiding something just from the unsure look in her eyes and that all to well known fake smile on her over glossed lips.

Just like that they exited the car, forcing smiles on their faces and Ben held his wife with a false adoration as he kissed her cheek. Violet was dragging her dirty conversed feet to join her parents in the same false bravado. Although hers was like a mask, you could easily see through it to the pain she lived, and what she was forced into.

"Hello, I am Ben Harmon." she heard her father say in his 'professional voice.' "This is my lovely wife Vivien, and my daughter Violet." She could have snorted at how fucking fake he sounded, The realtor gave a look that was rather uncaring as she extended her hand to the three.

"Marcy Smith. It's a pleasure to meet you all. Now, if you will come with me, we can get started."

Violet felt the cold air gush towards her as she entered the house. She shivered hugging her cardigan to her body.

Something was definitely up with this house, and she was going to find out, even if it killed her.


	3. Chapter 3

Violet glanced to the old styled home in front of her, hanging back for a few moments to take in its hauntingly beautiful appearance. The air around her was chilled and she really hadn't understood why. Wasn't L.A. supposed to be beautifully warm? It confused her, in retrospect she really hadn't wanted to be here. Glancing to each window she saw what looked like to be blonde hair in the window pane. She shook her head and grumbled silently. Maybe the stress from the move was getting to her. Hallie, the little dog her mother bought after the affair was nestled in her arms asleep silently.

"Hey, crabby pants! Come on in, the house doesn't bite." Ben replied waving her inside while still half listening to Marcy. Violet smirked sarcastically and followed him. Setting a now excited Hallie down as she went on her own, sniffing and exploring, barking every now and again. Violet stayed by the furnished living room and glanced to the old glass stained chandeliers and deep wooden floors. Her converse tapped quietly as she heard faint voices of that goddamn realtor and her 'happy' parents. Hearing Marcy ask the infamous question to her parents piqued her interest as she snuck around the bend of the kitchen to peek in the kitchen.

"What made you want to move here?"

"The atmosphere is just what I need to start fresh along with my loving family, and when we saw the price of this home against the one two blocks down? Oh, you definitely have a buyer."

"Ah, spontaneity. What a nice refreshing surprise, also I am glade you are interested, I have been trying to sell this old thing for years. How long have you been married?"

"fifteen years this May. We actually met in High school home ec. Or cooking, rather. Vivien and I were paired together, and she ended up teaching the teacher a thing or two." Ben laughed false annoying laugh as Vivien rolled her eyes casually looking in any direction than Marcy.

Violet snorted, making her presence known. Marcy caught her calm eyes and pulled a chair out to sit.

"You have a lovely family Violet, I am sure you're so grateful." She smiled heavily debating whether she could shatter this charade of rainbows and sunshine or wait it out until this woman sees it for herself.

"Try living with them. They kind of make me want to slice horizontally across my throat with a blade until blood stops gushing from the wound." Vivien and Ben coughed awkwardly as Marcy laughed questioning her seriousness in the matter.

Yeah, that should do it.

"Violet Harmon! Apologize." Vivien scolded.

"Calm it Ma. I'm kidding around. Sheesh, try to lighten the mood around you shit heads." Mumbled the teenager getting up from the table to go look around the bedrooms. Marcy watched her go before turning to the couple with a broad smile.

"Erm, well. She's a pistol isn't she? Anywho, why don't we go explore the rest of the home and we can make an arrangement on when you will move in, yes?"

The Harmons toured the rest of the house for another hour, admiring the restored wood and chandeliers.

"Nothing was remodeled with the lighting fixtures. The glass is from the 1920's. The only thing redone would be the woodwork along the walls to give it a glossier look, other than that the house is as it was when it was built."

"It's stunning." Vivien praised, Ben agreed as Marcy nodded heavily. She was growing more enthusiastic with this couple and she could barely contain her joy. This house was getting sold. There was nothing to worry about anymore and she was thrilled.

"Came along, the tour is about over, and assuming from the fact both of you are so strongly devoted to this home, I am sure you want to take it off my hands?" Vivien and Ben looked to each other and smiled.

"Let's talk paper work down stairs."

**xxx**

The couple was in the living room and had appropriate documents out and they were waiting to be signed. Marcy stood awkwardly. A look of discomfort against her blue eyes.

"Is something wrong Marcy?" Vivien asked concerned.

"Yes...I don't want to lie to you all, you seem to be very good people and I would feel horrible if I lied and tried to pull the wool over your eyes. The reason this home is so cheap is because horrible things happened here." Violet looked on in wonder, waiting for this woman to finish. Before she could, Hallie began to bark continuously at the back basement door.

"Violet, sweetie, can you get Hallie for me?" she rolled her hazel eyes and walked towards the dog. "Thank you baby."

"What's the matter this time Hales?" she tugged on the basement door and it popped open. Curiously, Violet went down the steps with the still barking dog in her hands upon seeing nothing down the dingy disgusting dark room, she looked to the dog whose barking hadn't ceased in annoyance.

"Stupid dog."

She appeared back in the living room as Marcy looked to the dog shaking.

"What were you saying about the house, Marcy?" She smiled as she remembered her tale.

"Ah yes, the house. Horrible things did in fact happen here."

"What? People died?"

"Yes, exactly. A homosexual couple. Very sweet men, I had sold them the house as well. They were married for a few months before buying this place. They redecorated everything. You know how those types of people decorate." Vivien looked unsure.

"As it turns out, they were slaughtered brutally. One man drowned, and another man sodomized with the end of a fire poker and he was shot."

"Jesus." Violet whispered.

"Yes, I was devastated about them. It was so hard to put this house up for sale knowing what had happened. But then I thought about it, this house has character, with every house, there is a buyer and every buyer there is happiness." Violet smelled this womans bullshit through her lips and smiled at her.

"We'll take it." Ben and Vivien looked to their daughter in shock. Never the less, Ben signed the papers and handed Marcy what was needed.

It was settled, they were to move in within the week. Violet couldn't be happier.

**There's chapter three! I gotta say I am kinda disappointed about the lack of reviews on this story, I write for myself but I publish for you all to enjoy it. Reviews motivate me to no end. so please, please, please, review. It will make me so happy.**

**-Heartbeats In Sync **


	4. Chapter 4

**Drama, drama, drama, is coming up soon! Thank you for the anonymous reviews, I am trying to get to the exciting parts, and trying to make tham as in character as they are. I hope this wasn't so rushed, it's after 1 AM and I was sparked writing this!**

**Enjoy!**

Violet's happiness didn't last long when they had finally settled in their new home enough to be comfortable. Vivien picked up a of a random alcohol and began to drink it straight from the long necked glass bottle it came in as soon as the last box was brought in from the moving truck. She threw her head back in relief as she chugged it half empty in three gulps. Without saying a word or showing any form of concern Ben had gone to his new office and wrote down his schedule for the new patients he was going to be seeing, Violet hated Ben's oblivious nature, she hadn't known if he chose it, or he really was that unphased.

Violet set up her bedroom a bit as heavy rock music pumped from her MP3 dock. It was no match for her mother's drunken slamming and anger over nothing. She turned the music down a notch, enough to hear her father's footsteps from his office if he chose to go out and calm his wife.

He didn't of course and Violet hated him a little bit more.

The crash of dishes in the sink made Violet jump and mute her music.

"Stupid fucking little girl...Violet get your GODDAMN ASS IN THIS KITCHEN AND CLEAN UP YOUR MESS." Vivien shrieked, coherently intoxicated as Violet opened her bedroom door and treaded lightly down the steps, appearing in front of her visibly too drunk mother, who was clutching the counter top.

"Mom, I didn't make a mess, they were in there because you said earlier you wanted to wash them off before using them for dinner." Her voice was light and nervous. Vivien's gaze locked cruelly on her daughter before grabbing her wrist and bending it in a position where she could break it in a second. Violet seethed in pain as she was shoved against the sink, her ribs and wrists smacked against the aluminium with a crack that sounded delightful to Vivien's ears.

The booze on her breath was nauseating as Violet gagged silently. Her voice held such a malice tone, such a different switch from when other's were around. Like Marcy, that bullshit love and affection shown was almost too convincing, and Violet would never tell a soul what went on behind closed doors.

"Daddy doesn't care about you, Violet. He never did, and never will." Vivien's words cut through her heart like a knife. She breathed in before twisting around, her wrist still bent from the awkward position a moment ago, the dull ache in her ribs made her wheeze before she spoke.

"That's... That's why he cheated on you with a twenty-one year old slut... his his student. You aren't what he wants. You never will be. If he loved you...he would never cheat." She coughed roughly into her fist. The next thing she felt was her mother's hand slam against her mouth, the skin split from her wedding ring as blood hit her teeth and tongue. The coppery liquid warm and sticky as the cut burned like alcohol had been added to it.

"How dare you." Vivien spat. Grabbing at Violet's throat as she struggled and clawed at the aging skin of her arm. Digging her nails in the soft flesh. Black pulled at the corners of her eyes as her vision swayed and her breathing cut drastically. Her legs became jelly as she clutched for anything with her free hand. Air swooshed into her lungs as she was thrown into the floor with a loud thud. the burning sensation came back, but this time to her stomach. Vivien placed her heel on the soft skin and applied pressure that made Violet want to scream for her father.

Would he come out for her if she was in trouble?

"Listen to me, you sarcastic heartless bitch. So help me god, I hear anything like that out of your mouth one more time, I will take a knife and slice it through your jugular vein, just like you so want to do because you live with us. Isn't that what you told Marcy when we were sitting at the table?" Violet didn't move avoiding her mother's gaze. Vivien stomped down on her stomach, causing the blood that filled her mouth to dribble onto the wood.

"Isn't it? ANSWER ME VIOLET." she snapped brutally grabbing her hair and forcing her to look into her bloodshot hazel eyes.

"Yes..." Violet muttered fiercely. Vivien shoved her back and grabbed her longed neck bottle of beer once more.

"Clean up this mess and get the fuck out of my sight. Don't think about showing your face anywhere near me."

She crawled to the sink and pulled herself up, rinsing the rag next to her with warm water before wiping her busted lip clear of blood. Her stomach felt like it was on fire as she cried out from coming in contact with the metal. Bile rose as it was forced down again, acid burning her throat. She wouldn't throw up she was stronger than that.

Dropping the rag on the ground, she stepped on it and moved it in a circular motion to clean up what blood was there. She shook with pain trying to bend down and take it in her hands. Tears stung in her eyes and finally fell down her pale cheeks.

Violet lost the battle she was fighting with herself, she was as weak as her mother, if not a bit more.

Her mother had won without even knowing.

**xxx**

"So, Tate, that's a very unique name." Ben Harmon said as a boy no older than eighteen sat across from him. His blonde hair hung shaggy in his black eyes, bottomless pits of emotion. His green and black stripped sweater fit loosely on his torso as his ripped jeans were faded and old. His converse dirty with grime with many months if not years of wearing. He was like a young Kurt Cobain. Something in his eyes flickered before he opened his mouth revealing a set of straight white teeth.

"Yeah, I guess. You're the quack my cock sucking mother set me up with, am I right?" Ben was taken aback by his outburst and settled in his chair.

"I am who your mother called. How am I a quack, if I may ask?"

"Aren't all shrinks using their shit diploma's to try to medicate me into being a better person, or just the ones my slut of a mother sends me too?"

"Tate, medication is used to indeed help, but to make certain, how do I put it? Emotions, and feelings stop taking effect and being an every day occurrence, not to make someone a better person. Taking the meds aren't going to turn you into super man or a world peace activist." Ben laughed lightly, Tate didn't even smile.

"Yeah. I know that. But my mother thinks they'll make me into her perfect son. In reality she can't accept that I will never ever be her perfect son." Ben took an interest in that statement and took out a clipboard.

"What do you mean, Tate. You can tell me, I will not judge."

"You silently are." Tate mumbled.

"No, I didn't take on this profession to silently judge or come out and say my judgements."

"My siblings are mentally handicapped. Mom says they're monsters so society and she hates them for their imperfections."

"How many siblings?"

"Two. Adelaide, and Beauregard. I love them no matter what. Flaws make them human. They can't shield what's wrong with them. Addie, she wants to be the girl who is beautiful. Mom says she never will be because she's a monster. But she's the sweetest girl you could meet. She loves animals and reading. I taught her how to read. Mom said it was a waste of time, but I still did it. I talk and play ball with Beau too. Addie joins sometimes." Ben smiled at Tate who had a ghost of a smile on his lips. He was a family kid.

"Is that why your mother thinks you're her perfect son? You have no mental flaws or handicaps?"

"I hide what imperfections I have." He was back to his stoic self, and his walls were back up.

"What imperfections do you have?" Ben asked gently.

"The voices. They pull me in. They tell me to do bad things to myself. I do them sometimes, it's pretty weird. Like an out of body experience. Like I'm watching myself but can't stop."

"Is that the reason you think about killing your classmates?" Tate snapped his black eyes against Ben's blue ones. He almost shivered by how spaced his look was. Tate wasn't in reality anymore, but he still proceeded to talk.

"I prepare for the noble war." his voice was light and airy, that haunting smile takes hold and Ben is listening intently.

"I'm calm; I know the secret. I know what's coming, and I know no one can stop me, including myself. I kill people I like. Some of them beg for their life. I don't feel sad. I don't feel anything. It's a filthy world we live in. It's a filthy goddamn helpless world, and honestly, I feel like I am helping to take them away from the shit and the piss and the vomit that run through the street. I am helping to take them somewhere clean and kind. The world is a filthy place; It's a filthy goddamn horror show. There's so much pain, you know? There's so much… There is something about all that blood; I drown in it. The Indians believed that blood holds all the bad spirits, and once a month in ceremonies they would cut themselves to let the spirits go free. Now, there is something smart about that, very smart. I like that. You think I'm crazy?" Tate asked, feeling Ben stare at him. Ben shook his head and smiled.

"No, you're creative. Tate, I felt your emotions mixing in, it's sadistic, it's frightening, but it's so real. Imagining it, does it scare you?"

"Not anymore. It used to when it first happened, I was nine, I think. Since then it's something so normal it's like I really did it, but no one died, but they all suffered." Ben nodded half heartedly as he wrote down a prescription on a pad of paper and handed it to Tate.

"Our session is up. Get this filled and take it regularly. This will not make you act different, perfect, or any other bullshit you might believe it will do. It will help the visions subside." The blonde nodded rubbing his hand through his hair.

"Can I use your bathroom?" Ben hesitated but nodded.

"I don't usually allow it, but go ahead, down the hall, first door on your right." He smiled and followed directions.

Stopping outside a white bathroom door, that was cracked open, he heard someone shuffling around. He was going to turn and ask Ben if there was another bathroom around, but the sound of someone throwing up caught his attention. He opened the door as quietly as he could and stared.

It was a girl, in a long dress, sweater, leggings and black converse, hunched over the porcelain bowl retching harshly as he bodies spastic movements lurched to a stop as she slumped down, breathing heavily. A razor blade across the floor as blood droplets coated the indentations of the tiles. Violet looked up fearfully.

"How the hell did you get in here?" Tate stood dumbfounded.

"I..uh, came here to see Ben Harmon, he's my new shrink, and I am guessing your dad. Are...are you alright? Should I get help? Your lip is busted up pretty bad, and the way you just vomited...and your wrist. Are you trying to kill yourself?" he asked, a million questions leaving his mouth. He was wanting to step in the room, the girl stared up at him with a dull expression.

"Go away. I don't need your help." Tate nodded.

"I never said you did."

"Good, get out."

"If you ever do try killing yourself, try locking the door." After Tate said that, he closed the door with a click and walked back towards the entrance of the house, ignoring everything he felt, with the script in his pocket, and the stinging of his bladder, he chose to go fill what Ben gave him and use it.

Maybe if he does take it, the visions will stop.

Maybe he will see that girl again and help her, although she isn't as fucked up as he is.

Is she?


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a week after Tate's first session with Dr. Harmon. He had gotten his prescription filled and was placed on his dresser. He hadn't been taking them because he hadn't felt the need. It had also been a week since he had seen the girl in the bathroom. Her face appeared when he shut his eyes awaiting sleep that never came. He remembers her wrists. Deep red gashes littered her alabaster skin. She was doll-like, beautiful and fragile. He hadn't known her name.

He felt like an intruder when he walked in on her secrets. There were no walls and no masks shielding her true self and who she was. Even her tough façade was weak in her hazel eyes, maybe it was all she really needed. Someone to walk in and realize she wasn't alright, and she was far from stable. Ben obviously hadn't noticed his daughter. The man with the PhD's. the Masters degrees, probably went to school more than Tate would ever dream about. He studied people like himself, people who were damaged and broken.

He couldn't even see his own daughter who was hurting. Tate didn't even know who the hell she was, yet he knows her pain, he sees the scars, he sees her breaking.

He needed to know her. He had to know what brought fear to reality, what chilled her blood and made her mark her skin with the blades. What made her vomit up acid.

He needed to save her when other people wouldn't.

**XXX**

"Tate, have you been taking your medication? Have they been helping you? Any side effects?"

"I don't want to talk about the medicine you gave me." His voice's emotion was unknown as Ben stared at him curiously.

"Alright...what would you like to talk about?"

"Are you married?" Ben scanned his face, it was stoic, emotionless, no expression.

"I am. Fifteen years."

"Happy?"

"Of course."

"Any children?"

"A daughter, what's with the personal questions with my life, Tate?"

"I like knowing a bit about my therapists, so I don't trust the wrong person with my inner thoughts and feelings. Sorry if I offended you. I was just curious about you. You seem so, happy with life. I wanna be like that too." Ben nodded in understanding.

"Tate, I understand what you're saying. If I was like you, I would have trust issues as well."

"If you were like me? What's that mean, Ben? Crazy? Damaged? Broken?"

"No, not at all. I mean, if I was like you after being what you've been through. I'm saying your strong. You're getting help, sure you're mother pushes you, but it means you have a caring guardian in your life."

"You don't know my mother. She isn't caring." Ben sighed before rubbing his blue eyes and leaned back into his chair.

"So can we talk about your medication?"

"What do you want to know? That I haven't even taken it yet?"

"Why haven't you taken it? Is it filled?" Tate heard faint footsteps outside of the door and saw a strand of dirty blonde hair. She was here. She was listening. She's probably listening and trying to learn why he's here. Maybe.

"I was afraid my big dick wouldn't work." his gaze flickered in humor as Ben smiled unsure.

"Tate, that would not affect anything below the belt." laughter echoed through the room.

"I actually have a confession to make." Ben rested his hand against his thigh and urged him to continue.

"I came across a girl so like myself, so fragile and as broken as I am. Her parents don't seem to see anything wrong with her. It's like she's oblivious to them. I mean, when I saw her, I couldn't help but really look at her. I looked at her flaws, and I thought how beautiful she was. It was amazing. From seeing girls in my school compared to her, they're all fake and just ugly. It's like looking into a fun house mirror. But with the girl I saw, she was real. She didn't need make up. I feel so stupid, I don't even know her name."

"So you're saying a girl doesn't need to be perfect or a certain way for you to find them attractive?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"You like the damsel in distress."

"I wouldn't go that far. She seemed like she could hold her own."

"I see. Well Tate, I have an assignment for you."

"I'm listening." Tate replied.

"Talk to this girl and find out her name. Don't give her just a greeting, I mean really talk to her and get to know this girl, by the way you talk about her she seems like she would be good for you. "

"Yeah, she does."

"Next week I would like to discuss this and I want to know how it went." Ben replied escorting Tate to his office door. He opened it with a click.

"Oh, and Tate?" The blonde boy looked back to Ben with a questioning glance.

"If you do this, I'll cut you some slack if you end up missing a few days on your medication. I still want you to start taking them."

"Yes sir." Tate smirked, showing pearly white teeth, Ben smiled back and closed the door. Tate walked a few paces before going towards the stairs. He ascended them cautiously and saw a door towards the end of the hall ajar and a bit of Nirvana could be made out.

This was the girl's room. It had to be.

He opened the door enough to step in. Admiring her taste in music and watched her as she flipped through CD's looking for another one to play.

"You have pretty good taste in music." His voice startled the girl as she dropped what CD's she was holding as they clanged to the carpeted floor.

"Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck is the matter with you?! First you come in the bathroom when I'm in there and now you're standing in my room and staring at me? You have balls kid."

"I'm Tate, and sorry, I know this is kind of shocking to see me here."

"And Illegal." Tate put his hands up in defense.

"Again, I'm sorry. But, when I saw you last week, it kind of worried me. I had no idea what the hell you were doing, and I didn't wanna be the one to break the news to daddy dearest down there if you committed suicide or not." the girl snorted, weirdly enough it sounded cute.

"I'm depressed, I'm not gonna off myself. Calm down, you don't even know me."

"I want to."

"Why?" she asked. He pulled up his sleeves and showed her similar scars to her's

"Because I'm depressed along with you." The girl looked around defeated and ushered him in.

"Since you aren't leaving, come on and sit down. We can listen to Morrissey, he's pissy and hates the world."

"So what's your name?" he asked as he sat across from her on the floor.

"Violet."

"Better than sunshine." he mused.

"That was my parents second choice." they laughed together and talked about anything and everything they could. It was like they knew each other for years, Tate was enjoying himself

He secretly hoped Violet was too.

**XXX**

"Why are you seeing my dad?" Tate stared at the clock behind her, they had been together for at least two hours.

"Don't ask questions you know the answers too." Violet nodded her head and saw a particularly deep scar run down his wrist. She traced it and looked into his black eyes and he began to speak suddenly, not really knowing why he was trusting her so easily.

"My dad left when I was six. He ran off with a co-worker when I was off at school. My mom broke down and cried for weeks. Later I realized why he did it. She was crazy, along with abusive. Mentally, physically, you name it. That's pretty much when I started to self harm. I thought I deserved to be mutilated. She stopped as I got older, but she still has her tangents every now and again." Violet's eyes were misty as he explained his life so easily. Sometimes she wishes she could do the same, with anyone.

She wanted someone to trust.

She wanted to trust Tate.

**Can Violet learn to trust him? Will Tate ever find out about her mother? Next chapter is Violate cuteness. This skips ahead a few days after they hang out in her room. Tate didn't have his session yet.**

**R&R**


End file.
